Until it Sleeps
by Skull Bearer
Summary: The descent to the pit of darkness well marked by all those who have come before is trodden once again. Harry Potter's descent to the Dark Side. DeathEater!Harry. Now one-shot.
1. Prologue

_I've made this into a one-shot because I really didn't like what I'd written after this chapter. I may continue it another time in a different way, but for the moment it's a one-shot._

_I've been toying with this idea for a few weeks, but wanted to wait until I'd finished Malfoy's Secret to do so. It was inspired by a lot of things, but mostly by the complete lack of good Dark!Harry fanfictions out there. I also judge this as one of the best things I've ever written. It's also the only one where Harry has some kind of life expectancy. ;)_

_The title comes from Metallica's excellent track 'Until it Sleeps', which I think is not only appropriate, but also was what I listened to while I wrote this fic._

_The characters belong to JKR, the lyrics to Metallica. I barely own the plot as it is and make no money from it unless you count reviews as currency. Voldemort's full name comes from Nemesis's wonderful fic 'I am Lord Voldemort'._

**Until it Sleeps**

**Prologue**

Where do I take this pain of mine  
I run but it stays right by my side  
-Until it Sleeps, Metallica

"Both of us." Harry said.

"What?" Cedric blinked.

"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."

Cedric stared at Harry, thunderstruck, after all their rivalry throughout the year this was the last thing he expecting from the younger wizard. They had fought over so much; Quidditch, this tournament, Cho... He unfolded his arms. "You-you sure?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."

For a moment Cedric couldn't believe his ears; then his face split in a grin.  
"You're on," he said. Come here."

He grabbed Harry's arm below the shoulder, and helped him limp towards the plinth where the cup stood. When they had reached it, they both held out a hand over one of the cup's gleaming handles.

"On three, right? said Harry. "One-two-three-"

Cedric and he both grasped a handle.

Instantly, Cedric felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He was unable to loosen his hold on the Triwizard Cup-turned-portkey; it was pulling him onwards, in a howl of wind and swirling colour, Harry at his side.

Their feet slammed into the ground hard, Harry stumbled but Cedric held him up. The younger boy swore under his breath and muttered a quick healing charm over his injured leg before straightening and looking around.

The phrase 'this ain't Kansas Toto' flickered in Cedric's memory from his last Muggle studies class, it was completely appropriate in the circumstances. They were miles -perhaps hundreds of miles- from Hogwarts.  
Cedric glanced down at the Triwizard cup then up at Harry. "Did anyone tell you the Cup was a Portkey?"

"Shh!" Harry hissed, glancing around the overgrown graveyard they found themselves in.

"But-"

Harry shushed him again, the fourth year was looking very nervous, a look familiar to Cedric, it was the look all OWL students wore when their results arrived.

"Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

_"Shut up Diggory!"_ Harry snarled under his breath.

Someone was coming, more than one person it seemed, stepping through the tendrils on mist and materializing from the darkest shadows in the graveyard. Four figures, all hooded and swathed in cloaks so nothing of their faces could be discerned.

One was very tall, taller than Cedric but so thin it looked like a strong man could snap him in half. He walked a few steps ahead of the other three.

The second was, in contrast, short and squat, just over Harry in height. He hurried behind the first figure like a train-bearer, staying in his shadow.

The last two brought up the rear like bodyguards, they too were tall- although nowhere near the first figure's height- and well built like warrior mages.

All four were silent, they stopped some dozen feet from the two boys and Cedric's skin prickled from the intense scrutiny he was under. Beside him, Harry stood straight but kept his eyes downcast, looking neither at the newcomers nor at Cedric.

Cedric had the disconcerting feeling of having walked into a play without his script.

After several minutes of silence so tense it could have been cut with a butter knife, the lead figure spoke in a voice so cold and high that if the hairs on Cedric's neck were not standing up already, they would be now.

"Well done child." Though the voice was terrible, the tone was strangely soothing.

All the tension seemed to drain from the boy beside him and Harry let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Then...I...I passed?"

"With flying colours." This time one of the bodyguard wizards spoke and Cedric started as he recognized the voice. Lucius Malfoy.

Harry's face cracked into a grin and he fell on one knee, arms open in thanks.

What on Earth was going on?

The lead figure waved a bone-thin hand and the four removed their hoods.

If Cedric had been doubting his senses before hand, he now knew this was some horrible nightmare. Because he knew who stood there in front of him. He hadn't taken NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts for nothing thank you very much.  
He knew very well that the serpent faced, scarlet eyed Dark Wizard standing no more than a dozen feet from him was Lord Voldemort, a wizard so powerful and so evil that few in the wizarding world dared speak his name.

He knew that, just as he knew that the bodyguard wizards wore the white masks and black robes characteristic of Death Eaters.

He knew that, he just didn't believe this situation could be possible. You-know-who was gone, thought banished by the very boy who now stood at his side, the boy who now bowed to the wizard who had killed hundreds, including the boys own parents.

Cedric's nerve snapped and he did the only sensible thing to do when the world's gone mad, he fled.

He ran like a startled rabbit, scrambling away behind a tomb half hidden by brambles, staying frozen in place until he realized there were no sounds of pursuit.

Peering, terrified over the edge of the tombstone marking a Mr. Edward Jones' last resting place, Cedric glanced back over to where the Triwizard Cup glowed in the dim light.

None of the men had moved, Harry still knelt at Voldemort's feet, head bowed.

"Stand up." Voldemort spoke, gesturing at Harry.

Behind the Dark Lord, Cedric glimpsed the short figure, a balding man with watery blue eyes sending Harry a wink and a thumbs-up. Harry gave a weak smile back.

"I admit that I had doubts as to your capability for this, Harry Potter," Voldemort said, "after all your record is against you, and had it not been Barty Crouch who sponsored you I think I would have declined.

"You have, of course, proved yourself trustworthy enough during the past four years in keeping my return safe from that old coot Dumbledore. But still you are what? Fifteen years of age?"

"Still fourteen, my Lord." Harry spoke so softly Cedric had to strain to hear, "I will turn fifteen in July."

"Ah yes, I remember. Very young; too young, I thought. Most of my followers join upon leaving Hogwarts, if that. Only a very few while they are still within Hogwart's wall and none before they have even taken their OWLs! Yet Barty approached me and begged to be allowed to sponsor you. Do you know why?"

"He's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and has been helping me in private." there was a hint of the old fire in Harry's words, a hint of the pride he took in his skills.

What in Merlin's name is he on about? Cedric wondered. Mad-eye Moody's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts! Moody! The famous Auror and Dumbledore's friend! You couldn't get anyone less like a supporter of the Dark Lord! And who was this 'Barty'?

"Yes, he spoke to me of you aptitude in both Defense-" Voldemort gave a horrible, razor toothed smile-"And attack. But it's one thing to cast spells in a classroom and quite another to cast them on the battlefield! And this, is why we had your name put into the Goblet of Fire, as you no doubt already know."

Harry nodded, he still kept his head down, eyes downcast in respect. "Barty spoke to me about it after it had named me, my Lord."

"Yes, we needed to test you. Due to the fact you are almost constantly watched over by Dumbledore, we had to do it broad daylight so to speak and make it look like something else. The Triwizard Tournament provided the perfect opportunity."

Cedric had heard enough, this was beyond a joke and he was going to wake up now. He lent over and pinched himself hard.  
Nothing.  
He pinched himself again, now his arm hurt. Not dreaming.

Lucius Malfoy took up the narrative, "Of course, whether you won or not was beside the point. We needed to see how you reacted under certain stressful situations."

Harry nodded again, "But I passed?"

An equally horrible, twisted smirk from the Dark Lord. "Congratulations."

Harry gave a small smile.

Voldemort spoke, his words ritualistic "Kneel down before me as you will now always submit to my will."

Harry did as he was told, going down on one knee, head bowed in submission.

"Give me your arm as you now give me your life."

Harry raised his left arm and Cedric saw him wince as the Dark Lord's abnormally long fingers snapped shut just below his elbow like a steel trap.

Lord Voldemort raised a slender dagger and pressed the tip on the inside of the boy's arm, where the skin is most sensitive "Swear to me your loyalty, Harry James Potter. Swear me your loyalty, son of Blood Traitor James Potter. Swear me your loyalty, son of the mudblood Lily Evans."

Harry's eyes closed at the mention of his parents and Cedric saw the short, balding man fidget nervously, but then the boy's mouth tightened and he spoke, and as he spoke, Voldemort drew the dagger in patterns along the inside of his arm, baptizing the new Dark Mark in it's servant's blood.

"I swear my undying loyalty to you, to The Dark Lord Voldemort Salamair Slytherin. I swear to you that from this moment to the time I draw my final breath I will serve you and you alone. No others-" Harry gasped in pain and nearly sobbed the next words-"No others will bend me to their will, and I will bend to no other will save yours. To no other cause save yours will I raise my wand to fight for. For you are now and forever my Lord and master, and I will serve you until my death.  
I, Harry James Potter, son of Blood traitor James Potter and-and Mudblood Lily Evans do swear to you."

This isn't happening. Cedric thought, this was completely impossible. It was like he'd woken up one day and found that magic no longer existed or that the sky had turned black or that the sun had burned out. This just could not be real.

"Then know that I Lord Voldemort, do accept your vow." Voldemort slid the blood-stained dagger back into it's sheath at his belt and withdrew his wand, pressing it's tip into the middle of the gory mess that had been the inside of Harry's left arm.

"Morsmodre."

There was no sign of the dreaded skull and snake of the Dark Mark, but Cedric shivered at the word, last heard in the crowded chaos of the Quidditch world cup. Harry was tense now, even from where he cowered Cedric could see the tendons standing out as the boy gritted his teeth in order not to scream.

Voldemort removed his wand.

"Arise and stand before me, young immortal, apprentice of the Dark, Death Eater."

As Harry stood shakily, stretching muscles no doubt aching from his previous position, his sleeve fell back over his bloody arm, sticking there damply.

"Look at me and prepare to fulfill your vow."

Harry lifted his head and for the first time since they'd arrived in the graveyard, he looked Voldemort in the face.

"Although we can afford to dispense with secrecy now, it is my will that you return to Hogwarts for the time being. We need one loyal within the walls of the school next year and you will do so."

"Yes my Lord."

"Of course, we must be careful to keep your status secret from all, and with that, you must kill all those who discover the truth."

"Yes my Lord."

"Cedric Diggory has not gone far and has seen too much to be allowed to leave this place with his life. Make sure this happens."

"Yes my Lord."

At that, to Cedric incredulous horror, Harry Potter, boy-who-lived, golden boy of the side of light turned and began to search out the immediate area, wand out.

Harry's head jerked up suddenly and his green eyes picked out Cedric still peering around the tombstone. He raised his wand.

Cedric didn't wait to see what happened, he turned tail once again and ran, crashing blindly into the low branches of the yew trees which filled the cemetery. Twigs scratched his face as he ran on, jumping over graves and thorns in a crazed escape attempt.

Following nimbly in the trail of torn leaves and trample bushes, Harry kept up. Eyes keen enough to find the snitch time after time in a Quidditch game now put to the more sinister purpose of seeking out his fleeing quarry.

Cedric ran and ran, tearing towards the supposed safety of the Muggle church over to his right. There would be people there, he promised himself, muggles or wizards who could stop this from happening. Oh Merlin please let there be someone...

Merlin had clearly deserted him, from not only was the church empty, it was also locked tight. Cedric stopped and pointed his wand at the lock.

"Expelliarmus!"

Cedric's wand flew out of his hand as the young man himself was sent flying into the unforgiving wood of the church door. He picked himself up and stared over his shoulder at Harry.

"Looking for this?" The boy held up Cedric's wand.

"Harry...please..." Cedric gasped.

"Please what?"

"Merlin...please Harry...please don't kill me..."

Harry smiled.

"Whatever this is about...Cho...Is this about Cho? You can have her Harry...please...please just put the wand down..."

Harry laughed, "This has nothing to do with Cho Chang, this was put in motion years before I ever met Cho Chang and I won't put my wand down."

"What do you want?...Why are you doing this Harry?...I'd have let you have the Triwizard cup if you wanted it...Oh Merlin Harry!...Don't kill me please!"

Harry lifted his wand. There was no triumph in his face, no sorrow, this had to be done and he would do it, but he took no pleasure nor suffered any pain from it.

"Oh Merlin...Harry no...Why do this?"

"I do it because He commanded me to kill you."

"Avada Kedavra."

There was a blast of green light, then the yawning maw of Death devoured him.

_Skull Bearer_.


	2. Chapter One

"Let me speak to him... face to face..." Voldemort, Philosopher's Stone. 

What if Harry's faith in Dumbledore had wavered? And what if Voldemort had seen it?

_A/N: The next few chapters will backtrack to cover the events that led to Harry joining Voldemort. First stop, year one._

**Until It Sleeps**

Chapter One

_So tear me open, pour me out  
The things inside that scream and shout  
And the pain still hates me, so hold me until it sleeps  
-Until it Sleeps, Metallica_

Harry's legs felt like lead, and he didn't seem able to breath properly. He was staring at the terrible face staring out from the back of Quirrel's head. The face of Lord Voldemort.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what the Dark Mage had done to look like this.

"Harry Potter..." The whispering voice was hoarse and rasping, and as cold as ice.

"See what I have become?" It murmured, "Mere shadow and vapour... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past few weeks... you saw faithful Quirrel drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me the Stone in your pocket?"

Harry completely forgot how to breath. He knew. He knew! He wanted to run but his legs didn't seem to want to obey him any more. Looking at that terrifying, smileing face, he bitterly cursed Dumbledore for leaving Hogwarts and leaving him to face _this_.

"But my dear Harry, he already knows..." Voldemort's voice was soft, mocking.

Harry's eyes went wide. He could read his _mind?_

The horrible grin told him everything. "He knew you would come... A little test, as you will... for his most loyal pawn-"

"Liar!" Somehow Harry had found his voice.

If the smile had been horrible, the laugh was even worse. High, cruel and mirthless, it sent shudders down Harry's spine. "Oh no, I am not lying... How else can you explain why you are down here?... You are young... not even a dozen years of age... pray tell me, Harry Potter... how else can you have come so far if he did not intend for you to do so?"

Harry didn't know, but the moment it was not the most pressing matter. Quirrel's wand was. He played for time, "If you knew this was all a test, then why are you down here?" he shouted, trying to back away towards the flames.

"I am all but dead you foolish boy." Voldemort whispered, black fury gleaming in his slit pupiled eyes, "To run a risk and gain the Philosopher's Stone... it was the only chance I had... the only choice..."

"I won't give it to you." Harry warned.

"You fool!" Voldemort snarled, "Do you really think we have time to barter here? I daresay Dumbledore is on his way here this instant."

The scowl crossed Harry's face, he was being reckless, but it actually seemed as though Voldemort _didn't_ want to kill him unless he had to. "Presuming this is all some kind of test as you want me to believe."

"If you spared a moment to think, you would believe it too," this time there seemed to be something like desperation in the Dark Lord's voice, "These spells guarding the Stone were meant to keep me out... to keep out the darkest wizard in a century... Yet you, and no doubt your friends, managed to get through... three first-year wizards managed to bypass the greatest magical spells set up... how else would you have managed that if someone did not mean you to do so?... Dumbledore wants to test you... to be certain of your loyalties..."

Harry hesitated. "Why? What are you offering that makes you any better than Dumbledore?"

Voldemort smiled, a smile which made Harry feel he had slipped up somewhere. "I am offering the truth... the truth about everything you wanted to know... the truths Dumbledore is refusing to tell you..." The Dark Lord's voice was soft, like a snake charmer's. "He has done nothing to deserve your loyalty. He sent you off to live with filthy muggles when so many wizards would have taken you in... he sends you into danger without a thought... I am not so foolish as to think he was ignorant of my prescence within these walls... Ask him why he showed you how the mirror of Erised worked... ask him, next time you see him... ask him the question whos answer you most dearly want to know... Ask him why I killed your parents..."

Harry stared. He had never even told anyone that.

"Give me the Stone, and I shall tell you... For I assure you, he never will... And he will keep calling on you, Harry Potter... to be the hero you have been made out to be... and to finish his work for him... Feeding you on with little tid-bits of information for what you truely wish to know... Give me the Stone now... and I will tell you everything he has been keeping from you..."

Harry's hand crept almost of it's own accord to his pocket, "Youwon't touch me afterwards?

Voldemort smiled, "Give me the Stone, and I will no longer have any reason to harm you..."

Harry swallowed, thinking of Ron and Hermione.

"Nor any of your friends..."

Oh, it was so tempting...

"Give me the Stone..."

Moving quickly, lest he change his mind, Harry withdrew the Philosopher's Stone from his pocket and threw it at Quirrel, who spun around and caught it before drawing his wand.

Harry's stomach dropped. Oh, how could he have been so foolish? "You promised..."

"And so I did." Voldemort said, "But don't you think Dumbledore will be suspicious finding you here unharmed and the Stone gone? He will not be able to see through you, I will see to that. Do not worry, Harry Potter, we will see each other very soon, and I will answer all your questions."

Quirrel pointed his wand at Harry._ "Stupefy!"_

And all went black.

* * *

Harry slowly came back up from whatever dark abyss had swallowed him, he got the impression of many people close by and voices began to filter though the fog shrouding his senses.

Harry opened his eyes blearily. The world was very blurry but there was no mistaking the silvery beard and half-moon spectacles above him.

"Headmaster..." Harry croaked, dazed. Then the mass of memories and emotions kicked it and it was all he could do not to scream.

Yet somehow, Dumbledore didn't seem to have noticed his momentary panic, smiling serenly down at him. "Good afternoon Harry."

Harry blinked, this hadn't been what he'd been expecting. He wondered if the previous few hours had been a dream... how long _had_ it been? Hours? Days? How long had he been unconcious? "Sir! The Stone! What happpened?"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times, Quirrel does not have the Stone."

_What?_ "Then who does? Sir, I-"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have be thrown out."

Harry forced himself to calm down. Had Voldemort not been able to get out? Was the Stone a fake? What was going on? More as not to look at Dumbledore than for any other reason, Harry looked around. He was in bed in the hospital wing, the table beside him groaning under the weight of hundreds of cards and sweets.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers" Dumbledore beamed.

Harry had to fight down as scowl as Dumbledore chattered on, under the completely mistaken impression that Harry was listening. He was beginning to think that Voldemort had been quite right, Dumbledore seemed to be doing everything possible to distract him from what had happened and the inevitable questions that would follow. He would be talking about the weather next.

"How long have I been here?"

"Three days. Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most pleased you have come around, they have been extremly worried."

And now a guilt trip, wonderful.

"But sir, the Stone-"

"I see you are not to be distracted. very well, the Stone. Proffessor Quirrel did not manage to take it from you, and they were both destroyed in the ensuing fight."

What is he talking about? Harry thought, wishing had been awake to see what had happened after he had been cursed.

"By the time I arrived, there was no sign of either Voldemort nor Quirrel, and you, dear boy, were out cold on the floor. I believe Quirrel managed to get one final curse in before he died."

It hit Harry like a thunderbolt.  
_He didn't know._

He remembered Voldemort's words; "He will not be able to see through you, I will see to that." Quirrel had set something up to make Dumbledore believe that the Stone was destroyed! It made perfect sense, this way there would be no search parties, no questions asked. The only way Dumbledore would know anything was if Harry told him himself.

He opened his mouth-

And closed it again. There was no point in saying anything, what was done, was done, and if he spoke about it he was liable to be thrown out of Hogwarts. Nothing was worth that.

"Destroyed?" Harry asked, trying to see how complex the lie was, "but your friend- Nicolas Flamel-"

"Oh, so you know about Nicolas?" Dumbledore sounded delighted, unsurprising since they were moving away from more dangerous waters, "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a chat and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir left to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Harry's amazement must have shown, for Dumbledore smiled again, "To on as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very _very_ long day. After all, to the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure."

He really is barking mad, Harry marvelled. He was suddenly glad he had given the Stone away, Voldemort was quite right, he'd had no place defending Dumbledore.

Lost in his own thoughts, Harry missed the end of Dumbledore's inane speech. When he came back to himself, the man was humming and staring at the ceiling.

Time to find out once and for all, Harry decided, he just had to build up to it. "Sir? I've been thinking... Sir- even if the Stone's gone, Voldemort will still try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No Harry, he has not." And you never said a truer word, Harry thought privately, "He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share..." Harry zoned out, waiting for Dumbledore to stop talking so he could move on to what he really wanted to ask.

"Sir," he started when Dumbledore had finished, "Therre are some things I'd like to know, if you can tell me..." And you'd better, "some things I want to know the truth about..."

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "Is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefor be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

In other words, Harry thought bitterly, 'I'll answer what I want you to know, and if I don't, then tough.' Damn him, and damn Voldemort too for being so right.

"Why did Voldemort kill my parents?"

Harry all but held his breath as Dumbledore sighed, willing the old man to tell him the truth.

But- "Alas, the very first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now."

Dumbledore went on, but Harry had stopped listening, his ears ringing in supressed rage. He had wanted Voldemort to be wrong, for Dumbledore to smile sadly and tell him the truth, but no, just another carrot for Harry to follow hungrily in the hopes it would someday be given to him.

There were other questions, but Harry already knew the answer to most of them. Where had his cloak come from? Clearly from Dumbledore, in order for him to give into his temptations, explore the castle, and find the clues neccessary for the little test Dumbledore wanted to put him through.

Let Dumbledore drown in his lies. he would have the truth from another source.

_Please review._

_Skull Bearer._


	3. Chapter Two

_Lady Lestrange: I hated HP6, but after seeing the fourth film I was inspired. Short chapter._

_Andromeda Snape-Malfoy: Glad you like._

_PsychicLunar: My first fic of the kind, note that I like Voldemort a lot more than I like Harry, so the fic will be neither Super!Harry, nor will it have Harry overthrowing/taking over from the Dark Lord. Voldemort's staying on top in this fic._

_Loony Lisa Lovegood: I'm not actually trying to make Harry a Slytherin, he's brave, bold, and while he is clever he does tend to act before thinking. he's a Gryffindor, and a Death Eater. I don't see it written anywhere that you can't be both._

_SerpentClara: It's a lot like your fic, although my Harry was somewhat less of a coward. I'm having fun writing all the little undercurrents while keeping, on the surface, the books the same. Although there won't been a Chamber of Secrets in this fic._

_Silver Sailor Ganymede: Chamber of Secrets doesn't happen, as Voldemort's returned. He's keeping his belongings close and Lucius won't need to send the diary to Hogwarts to get rid of it, he'll just give it back to it's maker. Prisoner of Askaban, on the other hand, is another matter entirely._

_**The characters and places belong to JKR, the lyrics to Metallica and the book I referenced from to my housemate Katie, cheers!**_

**Until it Sleeps**

Chapter two

_Just like a curse, just like a stray  
You feed it once and now it stays  
How it stays  
-Until it Sleeps, Metallica_

Harry shifted nervously. He was sure it had been a bad idea from the beginning, but he had started taking risks last year and wasn't going to stop now, not with something like this at stake.

It hadn't been easy to slip away, but this meeting couldn't take place anywhere else. He had been forced to give to wrong direction at the Weasley floo to get here.

Well, he was here now, He scrounged up his courage and fixed his eyes on the shadowy figure leaning against the wall. "You promised me answers, now talk."

He felt rather than saw Voldemort's smile. "Which question do want answered first?"

This was not the time for word games, Harry thought with a momentary burst of irritation. He had only a limited time before the Weasleys realised he was not in Diagon alley.  
He felt bad for misleading them, but he had to do this. "Why did you kill my parents?" Harry said through gritted teeth. He hoped to Merlin the Dark Lord had a good answer to that one, he did not want to have resurrected him pointlessly.

He was not disappointed. "I killed your parents, Harry, because I wanted to kill you. I was made aware of a prophecy before your birth, that a child, which I took to be you, would destroy me. So I took... precautions. And we both know how that ended" The Dark Lord steepled his fingers, his red eyes- all that was visible of his face under the dark hood- fixed on Harry.

Harry flinched, "But why-"

"Why am I not trying to kill you now?" Voldemort laughed softly, a chilling sound. "Because, dear boy, I am immortal. Thanks to you. That alone negates any such prophecies. Thanks to you. Be grateful, if you hadn't given me the stone, you would have been forced to kill me at some point, and we all know how _that _would turn out."

Harry remembered the tales he had been told of the Dark Lord's power and was suddenly, deeply glad he would never have to fight the man in front of him. Gryffindor or not, there was a clear line between bravery and stupidity, and to think himself a match for Lord Voldemort was definitely the latter, prophecy or no.

"As to your parents... had they given you up, they would not have died. I killed your father when he refused to yield, and your mother when she refused to give you up. Is that what you wanted to know?" Voldemort's voice was completely free of emotion, he had done what he had to, and felt neither glee nor remorse over it.

Harry nodded, he knew enough, although in truth it hadn't helped much. Throughout the summer he had been torn between regretting his actions and trying to convince himself that it had been the only one possible. He had thought, when he finally confronted Voldemort and got his answers, that the rift inside him would be healed. It wasn't, if anything it was larger than ever. He had got the answers, that much was true, but the sheer lack of emotion in the Dark Lord's voice when he spoke of his actions made him wonder if he had done the right thing.

Had he released a monster out on the world? Or was Voldemort little more than a darker- yet more truthful- counterpart to Dumbledore? The Dark Lord wanted to rule the world, that much he knew, but who was to say that would be a bad thing?

Harry didn't know, and to be honest, didn't care. Politics was of little interest to him, all he knew was that he had been faced- he, Harry James Potter- with two choices. One dark, but giving answers to the questions burning inside him, and one light which concealed what he dearly wanted to know. He had made his choice and while it still troubled him, he had, in a way, found closure. With knowing his parents' story, he felt he could move on from that, release the part of himself that still clung to their murders. It was over, and right here, right now, they were dead and he was alive. To die in a futile attempt to avenge them would be unutterably pointless.

The boy sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a weight lift off him. "So what now?"

"That matters." Voldemort stood up straight, "Are you going to run to Dumbledore and tell him everything?"

Harry choked, the idea had not occurred to him since that evening in the infirmary. "No! I'd be expelled!"

Another laugh, more amused, "Very well, do you plan to oppose me?"

Harry looked at the shadowy form of the Dark Lord, "Would you let me walk away if I said yes?"

The long boned hands were spread, no wand. "This is a discussion, should you say yes, I'll let you walk away, this time. But if I ever saw you again, it would be to kill you."

Harry nodded, not bothering to ask what would happen if he lied. Voldemort had read his mind last year, he could tell when someone was lying. "I won't. I just want to be left alone."

"That, I'm sure, is something we can agree on. Now, I think your guardians will be looking for you, so let me tell you one last thing." The Dark Lord leant in close, close enough for Harry to see the ghastly pallor of his face. "I will be lying low for the next few years, and I would /not/ like my return to be discovered. I expect you to keep that secret, and to that end I will be setting one of my servants to watch over you."

Harry took a step back, "I won't tell-"

"I know," Voldemort waved a bone-thin hand idly, "I can see it in your mind, but Dumbledore has means of finding out such information, my servant will be at Hogwarts as much to keep an eyes on the Headmaster as to watch you."

He waited until Harry nodded, then continued, "Do not bother in looking for him, he will be very well hidden, and he will not interfere in your life. Now, I believe the Weasleys will be rather anxious over your whereabouts."

Again, Harry nodded, gave a short bow and backed off until he was out of the side street and Lord Voldemort was lost in the shadows.

Now, he just needed to work out where Diagon alley was from here, he had seen a sign nearby, proclaiming this to be Knockturn alley. Hopefully he wasn't too far away.

A few steps away and he was starting to second guess himself again. What had seemed so obvious while he was talking to Voldemort now seemed shaded and unclear. He felt at once guilty for betraying the Weasleys' trust and being angry at them for their blind faith in Dumbledore and particularly with Mr Weasley. The man was nice, but his muggle obsession seemed more than slightly warped to Harry, who knew all too well what muggles were like.

It was with a sudden shot that he realised he had forgotten to ask Voldemort that question. Why had Dumbledore left him with muggle? But then, he could work that out for himself. They were his only living relatives, and Dumbledore probably wanted him 'toughened up' for whatever trials the old man was planning. That question- why Dumbledore was testing him- was easily answered too. He must believe in the prophecy too.

It was with a sinking heart that Harry realised that although the prophecy now meant nothing, he would still have to act as though it mattered. Dumbledore would shove him into confrontation after confrontation with the Dark Lord, and Harry was only glad that he would have a few years grace before this happened.

He wondered who Voldemort's spy would be. One of the students? Probably not, by what he'd heard, Voldemort never recruited students- unlike Dumbledore. The teachers then? Another Quirrel? There was an empty Defence Against the Dark Arts post. Perhaps, although it seemed a little obvious-

"HARRY!"

The boy jumped, he had been so lost in thought he had barely noticed where he was going. He only now realised he had almost walked into Hogwart's giant gamekeeper, Hagrid.

The enormous man was clearly not happy to have seen Harry in Knockturn alley, and dragged the boy off, muttering to himself about how he shouldn't be here, that this place was _dangerous_.

Harry fought down a smile and sighed, oh well, at least he was going in the right direction, hopefully he could meet up with the Weasleys, buy his stuff and get back to the Burrow. He had a lot to think about and hoped Ron wouldn't rope him into another round of 'finding Scabbers'.

He shook his head at the thought, Ron's rat kept on running off for days on end and his owner often turned the whole house upside down looking for him.

The white building of Gringotts glimmered in the distance, and Harry could see a huddle of red heads, the Weasley clan. He sighed, and hoped his excuse of getting off at a wrong grate would be accepted, although he might have to embroider it a bit, he had been gone a while.

_Skull Bearer._


End file.
